Not so innocent now, Greengrass
by NotAWeakHarryPotter
Summary: AU - Following the events at the Department of Mysteries, Harry uses his time to think. And think. The time for disguises was over. Time for Harry to show who he really is. Dark! Harry. Erratic Updates - not abandoned.
1. Prologue

Prologue: 10/07/2017

Just two years ago, I discovered that I had a Godfather that escaped Azkaban to find and kill Peter Pettigrew. He escaped not for me, but to avenge my parents. I was fine with that, except he was so consumed by his mission that he forgot about me. He forgot about the Dursleys. Most likely, he had tried to get Dumbledore to allow me to live with him in Grimmauld Place. Equally likely, Dumbledore said no. It was all about the "Blood Wards" that he had put up.

But that wasn't the worst part. It was what he had done.

Sirius left me.

The Last Marauder, Padfoot, left me because he was too arrogant.

Because of this, dreams plagued my sleep. Every night, I would think back to that fateful night. How because of my naivety, I had listened to Kreacher. I remember how that despicable Death Eater, Dolohov, sent an unknown spell at Hermonine, and almost killed her with its purple flames. I remember how Ron was hit with a strange curse that it made him laugh even while blood was trickling down his mouth. Most notably, I remember Neville's screams as Bellatrix cast the Cruciatus curse on him, to make me submit.

I wish I had. Then, Moody wouldn't have been knocked unconscious, and Sirius wouldn't have died. I watched in awe as Dumbledore arrived via Fawkes, yet a growing sense of dread settled in my gut. The Death Eaters all started running, backing out of a confrontation they knew they could not win. After all, Dumbledore was Voldemort's number one enemy.

At that time, I heard Sirius shouting "Come on, you can do better than that". At first, I was confused, as I thought that all the Death Eaters left. But no, Bellatrix Lestrange was still dueling Sirius. He dodged the first jet of red light but failed to notice the second. It seemed to take him an age to fall: his body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards through the ragged veil hanging from the arch. The veil swallowed Sirius, not even leaving anything behind.

All I felt in that moment was heartache. Bellatrix ran away, unhindered as everyone was shocked by Sirius' death. I ran to the other side of the veil, just hoping that he would come out, and say it was all right. It was bound to be ok, right?

Every night, I would wake up screaming, and the Dursleys would go back to beating me, telling me to shut up to preserve their normalcy. I simply couldn't take it anymore.

 _Sirius' death was all my fault, and I'll be damned if I let it happen again. While I'm languishing in this prison, Bellatrix Lestrange is prowling the streets,_ I thought. I would not take this.

Inside, I knew that it was all Dumbledore's fault.

It was his fault that I was stuck here.

It was his fault that I was stuck with these abusive Muggles.

It was his fault that he didn't train or teach me.

I'm not going to take it anymore, and I am going to show the world exactly why I am the Chosen One.

For I shall be the one to wipe the slate clean, and absolve the Wizarding World of their sins.

The time for fooling around is over. Voldemort took someone I loved, and it's time for him to pay!


	2. Chapter 1 - Revelations

Author's note:

Thanks for the support guys and gals! It really gives me inspiration to write! I'm currently on the prowl for a beta... Anyone? PM me.

Also, Harry Potter does not belong to me. It belongs to JK Rowling.

Anyways, let's get right into the story.

Chapter 1 - Revelations

HARRY POV:

As I cooked the breakfast for the oh so charitable Dursleys, I was extra careful to not burn the bacon. After all, I had been beaten for lesser "crimes", as they so called it. As I turned off the stove, the Dursleys came down, right on time, at 8 am sharp. I yawned awkwardly, obscuring it from the Dursleys, who were sure to say that it was the "M" word.

Magic.

As time ticked by, I forced myself to keep my eyes open while the Dursley feasted upon the fruits of my labor. My eyelids drooped lower and lower until it covered the entirety of my eyes. I slowly drifted to oblivion, dreaming of a blond haired girl. I saw her, sitting on the edge of a cliff, dropping rocks. Her Amazonian figure sat well on her lithe and athletic body. Her complexion had an ochrous hue, and her thin eyebrows eased down gently to her thick black eyelashes. She seemed to be Aphrodite reincarnated. Even Michelangelo would not be able of capturing her beauty on the canvas.

When she saw me, she broke into a smile. Her smile was as bright as the sun, her oyster-white teeth lighting up the room. I jolted to attention when her megawatt smile was directed straight at me. Yet I could not see her face. Her voguish clothes still kept captive an aroma redolent of cinnamon and meadow-fresh mint. It lingered in the room long after she had gone.

I knew because I was entranced with her.

I knew this person like the back of my hand. She was perfect and considered by many as a Goddess. In Gryffindor Tower, she was referred to as the "Ice Queen of Slytherin". Even Fleur, a half Veela, could not hold a candle to her. That was how beautiful she was. She also wasn't one of those airhead blonds, as she was Hermonine's rival across all subjects, sometimes even doing better than Hermonine, getting +O's on her assignments.

It was unthinkable that I would be able to court her. It was suicide to ask her on a date to the Three Broomsticks. Seamus Finnegan, with his extensive experience, had ended up in the care of Madam Pomphrey for simply breathing in her presence. It was presumed that his genitals had been frozen solid by Greengrass with a single spell. She was as deadly as she was pretty. One could liken her to a basilisk, simply because her gaze could turn anyone to stone. It was enough to get people to freeze in their tracks.

But, as the Muggles say, you go big or go home.

In order to impress her, I knew that I had to evolve. I had to change myself. No longer could I be seen wearing Dudley's clothes. He was so fat that he was both the size and weight of an average killer whale. This clothing had to be the reason why Greengrass had not even spoken a single word to me. It had to be.

Well, there also was the fact that I was a skinny malnourished boy with glasses that didn't fit my face.

There was also the fact that I was a "filthy half-blood" in her eyes.

I suppose that didn't help. At all.

I was determined to try. I sure as hell was not going down without a fight, and I was going to be better the only way I knew how; to become sneakier, to become more like a snake. I already knew I had big boots to fill, as I am the "Chosen One". I never bought into that load of Hippogriff dung. It never felt right saying that I was the cause of Voldemort's defeat. It had been my mother who had combined Blood Magics and the Potter Family Magics together to help me fight off the Killing curse: Avada Kedavra. If anything, people should be praising my parents instead of worshipping me by calling me the "Boy-Who-Lived".

Jeez. I just want to be normal. I just want to fit in and have a girlfriend. It's awkward enough that Ginny always tries to force herself on me. Everyone is dead weight to me but Daphne... She's just so damn perfect.

_Awkward Line Break_

It was at this time Petunia, the horse-faced bitch, decided to wake me up from my perfectly fine nap. She screamed in my left ear "Harry! Time for your daily chores, and do be quick about it, or else you won't get to eat your breakfast. Also, please make sure that you pay extra attention to mowing the lawn. It was a bit uneven."

"I'll do it, just let me god damn do it at my own pace woman!" I grumbled as I stretched my muscles and yawned. Today was bound to be a bad day, as ominous clouds gathered in the sky above the house. I was planning on attempting to escape to the gym, but I knew if I came back all sweaty, there was hell to pay.

Instead, I just planned on stealing food from the fridge and pantry. I remember reading a book in the Restricted Section during the Triwizard Tournament that wrote about how magic was stronger when the body was healthy. "Harry hunting" definitely wasn't very healthy to my body, not to mention the fact that the Dursleys only gave me meager amounts of food, enough to barely scrape by.

I thought, _maybe if the Dursleys were nicer people, I'd have a much better chance with Daphne... I know that this is the Leader of the Order of the Demented Chicken's fault. Damn him to hell and back!_

One day I'll get that gormless geriatric goatfucker back.

One day.

But that day is not today, as I am but a preschooler compared to him in terms of pure skill. In raw power, I eclipse him, like how Voldemort does. The only thing that Dumbledore has on Voldemort is the fact that he's lived for roughly 50 more years, and learned more than Voldemort ever will. I mean, Dumbledore has even apprenticed under Nicolas Flamel, the Alchemist who discovered immortality through the Philosopher's stone. Tom Riddle can only dream of such a possibility since he ended up killing Flamel in his effort to revive himself in my first year at Hogwarts.

I was suddenly shaken out of my reverie when I was smacked on the head by Petunia. I rubbed the spot where I was hit and felt a bruise forming, and I started my walk up the stairs to my bedroom. I pulled my flappy shirt over my head and took it off. Already I could see improvements in my body as compared to last year. Quidditch had helped to define some of my muscles, but doing push-ups, sit-ups and various other exercises I had seen on Dudley's computer had filled out my form quite a bit. In addition to this, I had also been taking more food from the fridge in the morning, so it seemed like I had a growth spurt.

I quickly suited up for gardening and went to the shed to get a pair of pruners, a lawnmower, and some gloves. It turns out the lawn was somewhat lumpy because of some hidden garden gnomes. Remembering my experience degnoming a garden at the Burrow, I had to pick the gnomes up and expel them from the garden. I was planning on bringing these gnomes back to my room to practice spells upon them. Instead of dreams about Sirius,

Instead of dreams about Sirius' death, I had dreams about spells that I had never even heard of, much less used before. I vaguely remember a couple of them being used when Dumbledore fought against Voldemort. Spells like Lacero, where it would cause a large cut, or Effervo Caedes, a blood boiling curse. Sometimes, I would even recall things I was sure I had never done, like casting Avada Kedavdra at someone and feeling excruciating pain afterward. I attributed these dreams to the fact that I wanted vengeance, and my mind was imagining things for me.

After finally degnoming the lawn and pruning the shrubs around the house, I slowly trudged back to the house in order for a well-deserved shower. On the way there, I noticed a slight shimmer at the edge of the lawn. _Someone with an invisibility cloak must be watching me!_ I thought, but when I sneakily approached and pulled the cloak aside, nothing was there. It was just the heat haze, which is the visual effect of temperature differentials between air layers.

Maybe I was starting to become like Moody. I steeled my resolve and walked back into the house. I blocked out the comings and goings of the living room and marched directly to my room. After taking a shower, I realized that it was almost dinnertime and that I had missed lunch. Down goes the chance of getting Daphne to go out with me...

While I changed in my room, I looked out the window. On the horizon I could see the roads disappearing into the hills. The darkness was slowly approaching and creeping in from the east. Days before, at the same exact position I found myself in, I had asked myself, What color are Daphne's eyes? A stupid question, considering the prophecy that hung over my head, yet somehow I felt it held the key to my future, or perhaps not so much my future as my capacity for suffering.

End of Chapter 1: If you liked or perhaps loved it, please review. Writers on this site are only paid by the reviews of the readers.


	3. Chapter 2 - The Merge

Author's note:

Thanks for the support guys and gals! It really gives me the inspiration to write! If you liked or perhaps loved it, please review. Writers on this site are only paid by the reviews of the readers.

Also, Harry Potter does not belong to me. It belongs to JK Rowling.

WARNING: HARRY IS RAPED. IF YOU DO NOT LIKE THIS STORY, OR ARE SQUEAMISH, YOU ARE NOT REQUIRED TO READ IT

Chapter 3 - The Merge

HARRY POV:

Breathe in. Breathe out.

My heart pounded rapidly as I rounded the corner. I was sure that I looked quite a sight, with a pair of round glasses held together with a lot of tape, wearing a baggy shirt and pair of pants fit for Hagrid to wear. Tomorrow, Wednesday, was my birthday. Of course, my birthdays were never exactly fun - a couple of years back, all I had gotten was a coat hanger and a pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks. I just hoped that they ignored me because I wouldn't take this shit from them again. They might be getting some laughs out of this, but I am in no mood to take it.

Suddenly my scar flared to life and I felt like I was in the backseat of a car. I could see what was happening, but I wasn't the driver anymore. Words spilled out of my mouth, and I felt genuine horror as I said it.

"I'll Crucio them." I ruthlessly uttered. "These filthy muggles need to be taught a damn lesson, that Wizarding kind is superior in every way to mankind. Bellatrix, my loyal servant has finally broken down the boy's natural Occlumency barriers when she murdered her blood traitor cousin by sending him through the veil. Lord Voldemort returns!"

_Awkward Line Break_

LORD VOLDEMORT POV:

I had just gotten back home and was strolling through the living room when I ran into Petunia.

"You better stay away from me. If you harm a single strand of hair on my head, I will tell my lackeys to destroy you. Don't you know that I am a celebrity in my world?"

Her face looked sort of pale and pinched as she considered her options. I knew I had the upper hand though. Petunia would sacrifice everything to preserve her sense of normalcy. Having people show up at your door dressed in weird robes certainly would get gossip about her flowing.

She grimaced as she said, "How are you, Harry? Where were you? I've been waiting here for an hour. You didn't leave a note or-"

"Cut the crap. We both know you don't give two shits about me." She was wearing a navy dress with a fitted waist and a low neckline, which had been a gift from Vernon last year. Heels. Hose. Make-up. The last time I had seen her in make-up was after the Zoo incident. Four years ago? Yeah. About that.

She raised an eyebrow. "I know." Pure sarcasm. For a moment her face lost the pinched look, and she saw suspicion in my eyes. "Where's your coat?"

For a moment her face lost the pinched look, and it piqued my attention. Could Mrs. Normal be having an affair? "Where're your normal clothes? Vernon would be very upset if he saw that his wife was dressed so immorally."

"I left the house in a hurry. I… um…my book club…"

The pinched look was back around her eyes, and she stopped, suddenly frightened. I knew she hadn't been going to a book club. We both knew that if I chose to expose her, she would lose everything. Her son. Vernon. Her home. Her friends.

Despite what Petunia had done to me, I was glad she was leaving Vernon. Thus, I played along with her, saying, "The book club you went to is today? God, I'm sorry for assuming something else. That's why—"

The suspicion and feral look was back in her eyes. "Why do you care? After all, it's none of your business. You're only meant to be our slave, our servant! That's what Dumbledore promised—"

"You bitch! You took me in and barely fed me simply because you wanted a servant! I'll show you and that bastard who I truly am." I played along, but she crossed the line. However, I think what truly surprised at how scared Petunia was that I started laughing and laughing. It was as if I had been hit with the Rictusempra Charm. Did she truly believe that I was so damn naive?

I expected Harry's soul to protest, since he defended everyone he cared about, despite how much pain they caused him. For example, Ron believed that Harry had entered himself into the Triwizard Tournament, and shunned him. I delved into Harry's soul, battering aside his weak Occulmency shields to look at his memories about a conversation with Hermione about Ron. I didn't even have to look hard before it came up:

"Oh Harry, isn't it obvious?" Hermione said despairingly. "He's jealous!"

"Jealous?" Harry said incredulously. "Jealous of what? He wants to make a prat of himself in front of the whole school, does he?"

"Look," said Hermione patiently, "it's always you who gets all the attention, you know it is. I know it's not your fault," she added quickly, seeing Harry open his mouth furiously. "I know you don't ask for it... but - well - you know, Ron's got all those brothers to compete against at home, and you're his best friend, and you're really famous - he's always shunted to one side whenever people see you, and he puts up with it, and he never mentions it, but I suppose this is just one time too many..."

Harry was a fool. Deep inside though, I could feel that he despised the ginger head and outright hated that bushy-haired Mudblood Hermione though. What Ronald Billus Weasley had done was dumb, but Hermione was even worse. She played with Harry's feelings. I thought back to that amazing day when I finally awoke inside Harry Potter's body.

The train ride home. That's where it happened.

The Ministry Six, as the Prophet was already calling them, had decided ride in the same cabin back to King's Cross Platform 9¾ together. It distracted stragglers, who would arbitrarily come and go, asking for explanations of what had happened in the Ministry. When Malfoy had shown up with his two goons to come gloat and emerged with a black eye, that cabin was avoided in fear of the Chosen One's wrath.

The Chosen One, however, was silently seated even after the train pulled up to King's Cross. While Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville hastily grabbed their trunks and dashed to meet their loved ones, Harry had a pensive look on his face. He was jealous. They were loved, and Harry was treated with cool indifference at best with the Dursleys. Hermione waited alongside him after carefully scrutinizing his face, reading his blank face as a sign that Harry needed to talk with her. but didn't want to talk in front of their friends. It was confidential.

They both played the waiting game, and Hermione spoke first. "How are you holding up? You've been very quiet. Is it about Sirius? You should and can move on. He's in a much better place now, with his best friend and loved ones now."

Harry looked at her, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "You know me so well, Hermione." She just nodded at him, as if urging him to continue. "Sirius was one of two people that I love, and seeing him disappear was ... simply devastating. However, there is something else I wanted to talk to you about."

Hermione smiled her devastatingly beautiful smile at him, and his heart melted. "I still have to thank you and Ron for saving me from that dreaded nasty troll. After that, I just decided to stick with you because who else would be willing to distract a troll to save my life?"

He just nodded. "Yes... Well... the thing is... Ihavefeelingsforyou." He blurted, heat filling his cheeks, the tears momentariily forgotten.

Hermione just cocked her head. "Sorry... I didn't quite catch that, Harry. Can you say it again, slower?"

Harry cleared his throat as sweat trickled down his spine. "I... uh... I have feelings for you, Hermione." He whispered. "As in... I'm attracted to you. Who can't be? Over the years, we've stuck to each other, through thick and thin. I guess I gradually came to love you. Your smile. Your bushy hair. Everything there is about Hermione Jean Granger."

"Oh. I see." Hermione's face remained expressionless. "Uh... Harry..." She looked away. "I'm... uh... I'm not sure how to respond to this..."

There was a 'crack' in his chest. He knew what it was. His heart had broken into pieces, and it's remains crushed by Hermione's denial.

"I'm just so sorry, Harry," Hermione said softly, looking at her hands. "I... uh... I'm flattered, honestly. But... I'm not really looking for a relationship at the moment."

Harry just nodded, standing up abruptly. "It's okay, Hermione. It's not a problem. We can still be friends." His eyes glistened as he hefted his trunk and employing his mediocre Occlumency skills to keep his face straight and tears from overflowing. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

Hermione stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm still your best friend, Harry." She said softly. "I'll always be your best friends. I'm just not ready for a relationship."

_Awkward Line Break_

HARRY POV:

At first, I didn't know who invaded my mind. All I could feel was intense pain. Then I made the connection. Lord Voldemort was looking through my memories.

While Lord Voldemort was busy rifling through my mind, I mind raped him back, wondering why Tom Riddle had embraced the dark side. Memories popped up, showing why Lord Voldemort truly was the worst dark lord Britain had ever had.

A memory showing Tom Riddle killing my father while he valiantly tried to deter him with transfigured animals, and then shooting my mother with a curse as green as her eyes. A memory showing Tom Riddle ordering the Basilisk in Parseltongue to murder Moaning Myrtle. The memories soon began to overwhelm me.

I was beginning to get used to the sense of extreme vertigo that came with entering memories.

Then I saw it. A memory hiding inside the darkest confines of his mind; I saw Slytherin's locket and the bleak orphanage where Riddle had grown up. I learned about Riddle's accidental magic as a child, the way he was able to control and twist it to his own ends. It was both fascinating and horrifying. Horrifying because no child should be able to perform wandless Crucios with such malice and fascinating because he had so much raw power. I was in shock. A not even eleven-year-old boy was performing wandless Crucios and Imperios. How the hell did Dumbledore expect me to beat that?

The most advanced piece of magic I had done at the time was wandless apparition. I was strong for my age, but nowhere near Tom Riddle's power when he was at my age. Already, I was below him in every possible way, yet the prophecy foretold that I would be the one to defeat him. I already instinctively knew that in order to stand somewhat of a chance at toppling a dark lord, I had to reveal who I truly was. Not the helpless boy who once had lived in the cupboard, but as the boy who slew a Basilisk at twelve, a boy who repelled more than a hundred Dementors at thirteen.

I had to quit the hero act and become the villain. I had to detach myself from emotions, and let logic reign supreme. Hermione would understand. She would understand that this is the only way to keep her safe, even if it means that I have to sink to the level of Lord Voldemort and his followers. After all, the ends justify the means.

_Awkward Line Break_

While we were both looking at each other's memories, Petunia walked away. She was replaced by a tub of fat lard, Dudley. He happened to be with his gang. At this time, I had finally regained control over my body to know how screwed I was. Lord Voldemort fell silent. I could feel curiousity radiating from him. I was scared shitless. When Dudley was with his gang, it was to bully someone. Typically me.

This meant that it was time for Dudley to play his favorite game: "Harry Hunting" as he dubbed it. This time, the stakes were much higher though. I saw a glint of steel in his chubby hands. Instead of his rough calloused fists hitting me, it would be a knife slashing across my chest, maybe even ending me. While I had studied a lot over the summer, using books from the Black library that I had smuggled out of Grimmauld Place, it still wasn't enough to take down Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, Gordon, and Dudley in time it would take for them to shank me.

The only way out was through the door, and Gordon had already covered the exit with his large frame. I frantically dashed towards the stairs, hoping that if I reached my room in time, I would be safe. Those five fat slobs chased after me, but I bolted the door to my room in the nick of time. I sighed a breath in relief. Dudley wouldn't dare to break down this door. There was one thing that I did not consider though; Vernon hated me with a passion, and would be willing to do anything short of murdering to get rid of me.

I could hear Dudley yell at Piers to prepare to ram the door, and moments later, the entire house started shuddering. I could hear the grunts resonating through my door, and when I heard a crack, I knew I was doomed. This door wasn't meant to hold back 5 people individually weighing 200 pounds each.

I valiantly tried to reason with them. "Don't break down the door! Vernon won't be happy about that!"

They stopped for a few seconds, granting me a temporary reprieve. Then Piers Polkiss had to open his mouth. "Hey Dudley, doesn't your dad hate Harry? We'll be doing him a favor if we kill him. Besides, I want revenge. Don't you remember that on your eleventh birthday, that freak made the glass disappear and made us fall into the snake enclosure?"

I heard a grunt of agreement before the slamming continued. I was out of time. They knew it too. The door frame snapped, and the door fell to the ground. I frantically grasped at my wand, and tried casting 5 Stupify's in the span of 10 seconds. I took down Peter, then Gordon. That left Dennis, Malcolm and Dudley. However, they cornered me, and rushed me at the same time. With my shaking hands, I managed to hit Dennis with a jet of red light. He fell immediately on the ground, and we all could hear the snapping of a bone. Dudley wasn't going to be happy about that.

They slammed into me, and sent my wand flying. I tried crawling to retrieve my wand, but Dudley and Malcolm dragged me towards them. Dudley suddenly let go, and walked over to where my wand was.

"You are nothing but a freak." Dudley screamed. Then he proceeded to snap my wand while I helplessly thrashed on the floor, trying to escape. It was too late. I was treated to a plethora of kicks and punches. The other 3 boys were woken up, and decided to join in on the fun. Roughly 15 minutes later, they got bored and decided to experiment with how far they could go. They pulled fingernails out, but were shocked when it simply regrew back again. It suddenly stopped when Dudley ordered Malcolm to fetch the strongest rope and a blindfold. Anxiety bubbled in my stomach as I fought to simply breathe, and not have a panic attack.

When Malcolm came back panting, I felt warm liquid pour down my leg as I shivered in fear. All I could hear was silence. Silence and the sound of Malcolm's heavy breathing. I felt the rough texture of the rope being tied around my hands and legs. I felt the smooth texture of the blindfold. Then I heard Dudley tell his gang to leave and to wait their turn. The now broken door creaked as it was opened and closed. I heard a zipper being unzipped, and felt my pants being unbuckled. I closed my eyes so tightly that I swear I could see lights flashing in and out, until I couldn't feel violated, him thrusting back and forth. As Dudley groaned, and left, another took his place. It continued like this for hours, even after I slowly faded into oblivion.

I was broken. Both physically and mentally.

My magic was working in overdrive to heal myself, but not even magic could heal the mind.

It had limits.

_Awkward Line Break_

I awoke with a thudding headache, eyes closed against the dull pain. The back of my skull and my asshole throbbed like a whore's heart; I bit out a curse and moved my hand to inspect the damage – except that it didn't move. Something was restraining them. My legs, too, were immobilized, as I noticed when I tried to get up. To get up... so I was lying prone. The violent hum of electricity streaking through the air assaulted my battered head, calling forth a grimace of agony. A steady dripping echoed all around me, but it seemed to come from a single source.

A runny tap, or a leak in the roof.

How long had I been out cold? My lips were parched and hunger growled in my stomach. I cracked open my eyes to better perceive how deep in shit I was. Blackness continued to engulf me. A tremor of panic vibrated in my core. I was blind, sightless, motionless, restrained. I was as good as dead, like a chicken breathing its last lungful before the bloodied knife would steal it forever more. That slight tremor increased in intensity until I physically shook in time with it.

It's all a dream, all a dream. Only a nightmare. I'll wake up any second now. Just a dream. Not real, not real. Not real!

I tried wrenching my arms free and felt narrow straps dig into my flesh. I cried out in pain and kept battering at the straps with my forearms. They sawed in deeper and drew blood, but I was too far gone to notice it. My every instinct forced me to fight this unseen enemy, to escape these bonds, to run free once again.

A squeak from rusty hinges; someone was coming in – or going out, I realized. They were leaving me there to die of hunger and thirst.

No! No, no, no, no! Why? What have I done? Let me free!

I tried to cry for help, but my throat was raw from shouting and my lips were long-deprived of liquid; a gasp bubbled from my lips instead. The distinct sound of swishing cloth reached my ears. It was coming closer. Closer, closer, and then past me, the faint footsteps receding into the other direction.

"Come... ba-..." I croaked. "No... Don't..."

I listened for an excruciating moment. Then the door slammed shut. Dudley and his gang weren't coming back. They had left me to rot, to die. They had left me hanging over the open maw of Satan, suspended from chains. My tortured throat let out a pathetic cry as I attacked my bonds with the remainder of my strength. I would get free. I would escape. I would see a certain blond haired blue eyed beauty again.

Daphne...

I thrust upwards with every muscle I had, gritting my teeth when the straps tightened around my form as I tried to overcome my captivity. I could feel the joints groan in strain, and I pushed harder. For her. Just a little more... A few inches. My arm popped out its socket. A dislocated arm did not matter to me. Not as much as Daphne and the Wizarding World. It wasn't enough though, and days flew by.

Since I hadn't eaten or drank anything since I was captured, my body stabilized. Nothing was going in, so nothing needed to come out. My body was surviving on magic alone. I also came to the realization that I was starting to become delusional and insane. My brain, starved of input, had decided to make its own. I started talking with myself. Instead of being worried, I found this wildly funny. The content of said delusions would have been terrifying to a normal mind. But my mind wasn't normal anymore because it didn't matter. None of it mattered. I wouldn't see Daphne again.

At the same time my mind was breaking down, The Dark Lord started to add his own elements to my delusions. He manipulated images of Dudley and his gang, replacing them with Hermione and all the Gryffindors. I soon grew to hate them. It was Ron who had done this to me. It was Ron who had betrayed me. While Ron had raped me, I imagined Hermione holding me down. With both the Horocrux and I relying on my dwindling supply of magic in my core, I knew that both of us were going to die soon. After all, despite Tom's innate magic, he was just a parasite that wouldn't be able to latch onto anything after my death.

Tom had a unique solution though. It was one that intrigued me. After spending many days under Tom's influence, I wanted revenge against Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, and Ginny. It was worth it, despite the risks that it carried. I could utterly destroy them like they did to me.

The longer it was that I spent under there, the less sanity I retained. What Tom had promised was logical. Or at least at the time it seemed so. It was something that I wanted. In my mind, I could see Tom drawing runes that I had not seen before. Now that was impressive, considering that I had seen almost half of the remaining books of the Black Library. After meticulously inspecting the runes with a microscope, Tom smiled. From then on, it only got weirder. He started chanting, alternating between Parseltoungue and English, appealing to Magic itself.

At first, I felt something tingling inside of me. It quickly went away. Then something soothing flowed through my veins. However, it boiled. Oh the agony! I screamed over and over again until my throat felt raw and scratchy. Then I started laughing, for the heck of it.

What did I have to lose? After all, it only tickled.

Just a little bit.

Then something latched on to my soul. It was heavy.

Very heavy. Imagine carrying the weight of the Hungarian Hortail without charms or anything.

At this point, I was delirious, tip toeing near the edge and into oblivion. I jumped, only to be stopped halfway, dangling on a single tree branch. It was at this time that memories started swarming my mind, imparting bits of knowledge, and removing useless information not related to magic. Slowly, I felt as if time was rewinding, as I was dragged up and away from losing my sanity. At this time, I thought about Hermione. She was a filthy mudblood that betrayed me. She would reap what she had sown. This I do so promise.

Once my mind had been cleansed of all the unimportant information and replaced with spells and duelling techniques, the magic moved on to my memories. It left defining moments of who I was. It stripped away all the pain of being beaten, and stuck in that damned cupboard. It stripped away my lack of confidence. It stripped away a lot of courage that I had, and enhanced my cunning. With all my previous biases erased, the only person who I knew that could trust was... Daphne.

Magic as a concept was almost done. I didn't know it yet, but this was the most painful part. As Magic coursed through my veins, I could feel my legs getting longer and longer. Each inch that I grew was equivalent to a single Crucio from Lord Voldemort. I gradually felt myself shoot up from 5' (152 cm) to 6'2 (188 cm). Simultaneously, Magic decided that my muscles weren't good enough. It started weaving fibers together and intertwining them. When there was no other fibers to weave together, Magic started growing new ones. It god damned hurt. Then, I blacked out.

_Awkward Line Break_

I awoke a couple hours later to find out that I had collapsed onto the floor and drooled all over it. As I picked myself off the ground and wiped the drool off my face with my shirt, I realized that I had gotten out of those accursed bonds that had held me down, just like my mudblood and blood-traitor friends. The moment that I stepped out of this mess, I would first murder the Dursleys and then go to Ottery St. Catchpole and rid the world of the Weasleys, minus the twins. They were useful, and I had invested in them.

They weren't safe. Nobody who had wronged me was. I would teach everyone the error of their ways. Oh, how I wished to Crucio them. That would have to wait though. First, I would have to get used to, or at least master walking. My now long and gangly limbs made it simply impossible for me to walk. It seemed as if I was a drunkard, constantly falling to the ground like Nymphadora Tonks. It was a disgrace watching her. As a metamorph, she should be able to control her body to ensure that she did not trip over anything, much less thin air.

I would put her skills to good use. Unlike Dumbledore.


End file.
